dear stella, # 2

Have I kept you all waiting for so long? I've finally written the second letter of the series. (What progress.)

Dear Stella,

How does it feel to have Mom finally allow you to touch her camera? Nothing so special? Quite surprising? Amusing? How do you feel about it? Nothing? Oh. 

Well, here's a little something from me. I want you to remember that moment. I want you to remember how your eyes gleamed in delight when you took your first picture - what was your first picture, by the way? I want you to remember how you slowly started to familiarize yourself with how it worked. Everything possible. Just, do, remember. Remember, remember, remember. And why?

That event, dear Stella, is truly a life defining one. The day it all started - this photography madness - will start a whole new interest for you. I want you to write about it. 

It's a simple letter, yes. Not as dramatic as you might've hoped,

but after a year and almost ten months from then, you'll realize why I evidently stress on it.

Always,

Stella

P. S You drop it twice during a school trip. When you wake up on the third day of the trip, please tighten the straps.

Letters to myself: Letter # 1

Dear Stella,

Wondering why you never get anything right anymore? Wondering why everything you do turns out not the way it should? Wondering why you're so afraid of the world?

You lack time alone. You lack time, in general. You never have time to listen, to pray, or to even to feel the wind and figure out how cold it is. You're a perfectionist right now, you stress yourself too easily. You occupy yourself with your perfectionist ways of having to please the whole world. And you forget. You forget about the sweet taste of your unknown favorite ice cream flavor, the songs of Charlotte Church, your favorite scents: lavender, the ocean and spearmint. You forget that there actually is some happy out there, and all it takes is the time to find it.

A little tip from the girl that has been and gone through you? Sing more. Go on a picnic. Start a blog. Get rid of your guilt pleasures. Stop regretting. Learn to accept the fact that you can't please anyone. Learn. Learn. Learn. Learn that this world you are afraid of has a good side, too. Stop pretending to forget that it does {you know it does} and start looking for it. You're only twelve years old once, and you're too young to live under the cold cobblestone roof of fear.                                                                                                                      From, Stella.